


Rescue

by ThirteenthMouse6572



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Attempted Kidnapping, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Light Angst, Rescue Missions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-16
Updated: 2019-12-16
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:47:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21816874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThirteenthMouse6572/pseuds/ThirteenthMouse6572
Summary: The child is taken by bounty hunters.The Mandalorian won't allow that.
Relationships: Baby Yoda & The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 272





	Rescue

**Author's Note:**

> god i love our worried space dad

As much as Dyn didn’t intend on pseudo-adopting the child, he was fully prepared to go in shooting to the camp where his– _the_ child was being held. He knew if he did that, he would most likely be shot before he could get anywhere _near_ the kid, so it was off the table.

He thanked the stars that the bounty hunters which took the green child had needed to refuel before he did. It gave him the opportunity to sneak into the camp and scout out where they were keeping the child. Thankfully, the ‘guard’ outside the main tent went out without a blaster shot and Dyn could sneak inside.

From the corner of shadows, Dyn looked at the 5 people sitting around a large table. They were laughing at something on the table, but it was blocked from his view by the broad back of one of the hunters. He couldn’t move from his place to see what it was, lest he be spotted, but he had a bad feeling in his gut about what it was.

“Unfortunate we couldn’t get the Mandalorian with it,” one of the hunters laughed. Dyn’s stomach dropped.

“This one will give us enough credits to last us a year,” another commented, spinning his blaster on the table. The hunter covering Dyn’s view shifted in his seat enough for Dyn to see the familiar green ear of the child.

His first instinct was to charge in, shoot first, ask questions later, but he barely stopped himself. There were 5 people, each with blasters that could hurt the child if a stray shot were to be aimed in its direction, against himself. He wasn’t balking at the odds, but they weren’t the best.

He needed to get to the child first.

Silently, he stood from his hiding place and walked out into the light of the tent. His blood boiled at the sight of the child stood in the middle of the table, its clothing slightly singed and eyes watery. It was only a few seconds before one of the hunters – and consequentially, all of them – noticed his presence and he had 5 blasters pointed at him.

“Speak of the Devil and he shall come,” the closest hunter said – a muscly human covered in tattoos. “Come for the kid, eh?”

“If you hand over the child, I will leave you all with your throats intact,” Dyn threatened, his eyes never leaving the kid.

The first hunter that spoke – a red-haired human – pointed his blaster to the child. “Or _what_ , Mandalorian? If you shoot anyone of us, the kid dies.”

Dyn’s eyes scanned the room. The only exit was behind him, so he couldn’t grab the child and run. He could most likely only take out two hunters before the red-haired one shot the child, and that would leave Dyn with three hunters to deal with _and_ an injured child.

“I am willing to trade,” Dyn addressed the red-head.

The hunters looked shocked, but it quickly turned into various forms of sadistic happiness. “What do you have to offer?” the hunter between the tattooed one and the red-head asked. “There isn’t much that would be better than the bounty for both this thing and _you_.”

Dyn bristled internally at the kid being called a ‘thing’. “What do you want?”

The five hunters shared a glance, seemingly coming to a decision instantaneously – or, they had already had one in mind. “Take off your helmet,” the tattooed hunter said, smirking. Dyn’s heartbeat was loud in his ears at the request.

He could not take off his helmet. He had _never_ taken it off in front of anyone. It was The Way.

He looked to his child, watching him with endlessly deep eyes. Maybe there were times when it could be forgiven.

“Hand over the child first.” Dyn couldn’t believe he was going to do it. The tattooed hunter turned and grabbed the kid by the back of its robes, making it give a squeak in protest.

As soon as it was given to Dyn, soft coos replaced the scared silence of before. Dyn smiled at his child – which it was _his_ child, now – beneath the helmet. “Well?” the red-head asked impatiently. “You gonna hold up your end of the bargain, Mandalorian?”

Dyn took a breath and adjusted his kid to one arm. He reached to the back of his helmet with the other hand and scowled at the triumphant laughs of the hunters as he slowly pulled it over his head.

He didn’t make eye contact with any of the hunters as he felt the heat of the tent on his face, staring straight ahead instead. “Not much to look at, eh fellas?” one of them said – Dyn couldn’t care now. “Chuck it here.”

He threw the helmet at the one talking.

Instead of it landing in the hunter’s hands or with a thud on the floor, the helmet floated in the air. Dyn looked down to his child and saw its eyes closed in concentration and its hand outstretched, just like it had with the Mudhorn.

The hunters stared at the floating helmet unmoving. Dyn took the opportunity before it disappeared and unholstered his blaster. He fired two shots before a blast hit his shoulder. Dyn barely registered the hit as he fired at the final three hunters, each of them landing in a heap on the ground.

The helmet followed soon after, landing at the feet of the tattooed hunter. Dyn quickly picked it up and put it on, relieved at its weight. He took a breath and looked down at his child – who he should really name, at some point. “Thank you,” he whispered to the now-sleeping child.

As he was walking back to his ship, Dyn realised that the child had seen him without his helmet. The other five were dead, but he couldn’t get rid of the child. He boarded his ship and placed the child in its makeshift bed on the second seat in the cockpit, wrapping it in blankets.

He descended the ladder and just about collapsed onto his own bunk, tucked away in a corner. Ungracefully, Dyn wrestled his helmet off and placed it on the floor beside him with one hand, breathing in the familiar air of his ship. It would’ve been good to go to sleep right then, but his adrenaline from the brief fight was keeping him awake. He settled for closing his eyes, anyway, hoping that his body would get the message.

It didn’t.

His not-sleep was interrupted by a soft coo that was all-too-familiar. Dyn looked down at his child and wondered how the hell it managed to get down the ladder. It looked up at him curiously, and Dyn remembered that he had his helmet off.

“Yeah,” he sighed. “This is me.” He wasn’t sure what he expected in response, but the kid held up his arms to be lifted, to which Dyn obliged and placed it beside him. “I look a bit different with the helmet off, don’t I?”

The child didn’t respond (obviously). Instead, it lied down and cuddled into Dyn’s side. It had done this before, and he knew there was no way it would stay in the cockpit if he put it back up there, so he just let it stay there.

Surely The Way would allow him to take his helmet off in front of his child, right? A child had to see their parent’s face at some point, so it must be all right. Dyn looked down at the 50-year-old toddler and smiled softly.

“Sleep well, _ad’ika_ ,” he muttered. He gave in to the quick onset of exhaustion running through his body and closed his eyes, letting the quiet creaking of his ship fill his ears and lull him to sleep.


End file.
